


Dragontamer

by keyflight790



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art, Bottom!Harry, Digital Art, Doctor/Patient, Draco's at work y'all, Dubious Consent, Floor Sex, Hermione tries to fix things, Hospital Sex, M/M, NSFW Art, Scars, Semi-Public Sex, St Mungo's Hospital, The Prophet is a dick, Wall Sex, because of the accidental marriage, dragon tamer!harry, healer!Draco, on the clock, relationship, top!draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-11-06 04:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17932898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790/pseuds/keyflight790
Summary: Being one of the top Healers in St Mungo's comes with its perks, and one of them is sitting naked in his exam room. What could go wrong?





	Dragontamer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeWitty1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeWitty1/gifts).



> Thank you so much to CranBerries for the amazing prompt (#9, in end notes as it includes spoilers). Thank you to the mods, @digthewriter and @vaysh11 for putting this amazing fest together, I had so much fun with my prompt!
> 
> Sending love to my alpha, @gnarf, who held my hand through this entire fic, and a huge (as huge as Harry's cock) thank you to @bixgirl1 for the amazing beta prowess and overall support. <333

“Honestly, Potter, we should designate this ‘The Chosen Room’, considering the number of times you seem to end up here,” Draco drawled, rolling his eyes as he entered the hospital room. He absentmindedly twirled his family ring around his finger as he scanned the white parchment for Harry’s lab results.

He tried to avoid looking directly at his patient, who sat on the gurney, bare from the chest up, with only a thin hospital sheet covering his lower extremities. He was a professional, after all.

“Looks like you’ve got a broken arm and a scratch across your pectorals?” he added, glancing up from his clipboard.

Harry attempted to lift his arm but it hung limply at his side. “Talia crushed it,” he said, wincing slightly.

“Talia’s the…”

“Welsh Green, the one who just had whelps?”

“Why you devoted your life to those horrid creatures, I will never know.” Draco clucked his tongue as he leaned over Harry’s chest, to examine his arm more closely.

“Your name means Dragon, Draco.” Harry huffed, and Draco could feel his breath hot on his ear. “I literally devoted my life to you.”

Draco’s cheeks went red as Harry stuttered.

“I mean—”

“You’re calling me a scaly, fire-breathing monster.” Draco glanced at Harry’s eyes, emerald green and sparkling in the bright hospital light. “And here I thought you considered me a friend.”

“I do!” Harry yelped as Draco poked at a spot on his side that was raw and red. “Don’t you?”

“I do.” Draco nodded. “Most days. However, today it seems like you picked up a new scar.” He poked his wand at the wrangled line of red crossing Harry’s chest.

“Huh. Guess I’ll add it to my collection.”

“Precious Potter and his precious scars. Why would one research the hazards of Dragons before diving headfirst into their lair?”

“So what now?”

“I apply some ointment, and you stay still. It’s going to burn when it touches the wound.” Draco cast a cleansing spell over his fingers and then reached into a container of balm.

He tentatively touched Harry’s left shoulder, the spot that looked least affected, so Harry could adjust to the unsettling sensation of the solution mixed with the puffy skin surrounding the deep scratch.

Harry jerked slightly, but breathed out steadily, working through the sharp pain. He looked at Draco and nodded for him to continue. Returning the nod, Draco continued to rub the concoction all the way to Harry’s right shoulder, where the cut looked deepest. He wondered if he should have gone slower, allowed Potter to work up to the deepest level of pain he was inflicting, but in for a Knut, in for a Galleon.

However, as the salve began to bubble as it healed the wound, Draco realised how wrong his decision had been. Harry was biting his lip, turning the pink to almost white as he bit back the pain. As Draco reached the edge of the cut, Harry’s body lurched quickly away, his right arm reaching out and grappling at Draco’s wrist, forcing it away from his skin.

Draco heard more than felt the abrupt clink of his family ring crashing into another piece of metal as Harry continued to twist himself out of Draco’s reach. He leaped off the bed, dropping the thin sheet that covered his lap in the process, and staggered to the left wall of the room.

Harry stood with his back against the concrete wall, taking heavy breaths, and Draco felt an unmistakable pull in his chest, his heart. He took in Harry’s fully naked form, from the slash across Harry’s chest that was already responding to the ointment, to his chiseled stomach, to his engorged cock.

As suddenly as Harry had jumped, Draco _needed_ him. It was as clear and sweet and sudden as an afternoon rain, and Draco couldn’t resist its pull.

He reeled toward the wall that held Harry and wrapped his greedy hands around his waist, pulling Harry close to his chest.

“Fuck, Potter,” he moaned as he felt Harry’s erection against his thigh. Harry’s breath was short, panting, as he stared back into Draco’s eyes.

“Too many clothes,” Harry groaned as his hands reached for the green fabric of Draco’s hospital robes. Draco helped pull them off, releasing his hold around Harry’s waist. He ripped off his shirt, and his trousers and pants followed, falling to the floor in a giant heap.

He stared at Harry’s mouth, his plump lips and his pink tongue, and Draco wanted to _taste_ him, to know what it felt like to kiss the man he used to hate. He leaned in and dragged his teeth across Harry’s lower lip before encompassing his mouth with his own, pulling them both into a heated kiss.

Draco had gone out to the hills on more than one occasion to see Harry and his dragons, never wanting to miss the opportunity to see the scaly beasts up close. Seeing Potter on a broom again, dodging the heated flames and cackling into the face of danger had filled Draco’s belly with something he hadn’t fully understood at the time.

But kissing Potter brought back those days, the spark in Harry’s eyes, the fire filling the Scottish air. Harry kissed like he was already on fire, like the flames were licking his skin, and Draco couldn’t decide if he wanted to douse them with his mouth, or watch everything burn to the ground.

“Why?” Harry whined as he tilted his head, exposing the long lines of his throat. Draco instantly attached his mouth there, biting and licking and kissing up to the expanse of tantalizing skin.

“Dunno,” he murmured into Harry’s collarbone. “Want you so bad.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, more with a jerk of his hips than the actual word.

“Fuck,” Draco replied, his bare cock rutting eagerly against Harry’s length. It was hot, and hard, and Draco wanted to taste it. He dipped his head lower, dragging his tongue over the length of Potter’s newly acquired and healed scar, and Harry shivered, his hands grappling at Draco’s hips.

As if pulled by gravity, or from the earth itself, Draco sank to his knees. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done this before, but something in his core screamed that this was different, important. And maybe it was the hard cock dangling in front of him, or the distinct smell of _Potter_ , but Draco couldn’t wait to open his mouth and wrap his desperate lips around Harry’s length.

Harry moaned, his hands threading through Draco’s hair, and Draco wondered why it sounded so much like a song, one that had been ringing around in his head for years, a continuous melody, lost of lyrics but still the most beautiful hymn he had ever heard.

He hollowed his cheeks in return, pulling Harry’s cock even further into his eager mouth, and brought his hand up to cup his bollocks.

“Oh, gods, Draco,” Harry groaned, his fingers scraping along Draco’s scalp, and for a moment, Draco thought it might all be a dream. That he had fallen and hit his head when Harry yanked out of his grasp, and that his lips weren’t really wrapped around Harry’s cock.

But this all seemed so real, Harry’s hands in his hair, and his need heavy on Draco’s tongue. He swirled it, tracing the thick vein that ran along Harry’s length.

“Fuck.”

And that’s exactly what Draco wanted to do. He didn’t think he had ever wanted to do something so badly than to fuck Harry Potter against the wall, on the bed, the filthy floor. The desperation was pulsing in his body, itching under his skin, clawing its way to the surface.

“Turn around,” Draco commanded, and even from his position on his knees, the overwhelming newness of everything, he wasn’t surprised when Harry shifted immediately. Draco tapped his ankles, and Harry responded again, his chest and slick cock pressed up against the wall, his legs spread apart, welcoming him. Welcoming him _home._

Draco shook his head. This wasn’t home, this was a hospital room, and he was on duty. His colleagues were outside and one of them could drop in any moment, check on the Golden Boy’s progress. But for some reason Draco couldn’t focus on any of these minute details. He could only focus on Harry, and his thick thighs and his beautiful arse.

He stood and pressed himself along Harry’s back, his hands flat against the wall and framing Harry’s head. Harry’s cheek was turned, flush against the wall as well, his mouth open and wet. Draco could see the tiniest trickle of blood on the crest of his flushed bottom lip and he wondered if Harry had been biting it, biting back more moans as Draco had sucked him down.

The thought of making Harry lose control like that made Draco’s cock throb, and he shifted his hand so his little finger was close enough to Harry’s mouth that he could feel his hot breath panting on his skin.

“Yes,” Harry murmured as Draco ran his tongue across his shoulder blades, outlining the thick black lines of his triangle Hallows tattoo. He reached for the ointment and rubbed it into his hands before slicking up the length of his cock. Draco rolled his hips until his cock was nestled in between Harry’s thighs.

“What do you want, Harry?” he asked, his mouth against Potter’s back. Draco knew what he wanted, and if he was honest with himself he had wanted it for a while. Ever since he'd seen  Harry with his dragons, so in control, so confident and sure.

“Want you, _why_ Draco, yes, want you inside of me.” Harry twisted off of the wall, canting his hips and exposing his furled pink hole.   

It was as if Draco’s subconscious was ripped in half, one part screaming that something wasn’t right, that they shouldn’t be doing this, that he was at work, that Potter had given no previous signs before today this was something he wanted. The other part, the part that was controlling his hands and his mouth and his cock, had other plans.

His fingers, slick with ointment, found their way to Harry’s rim. He circled it, relishing the way Harry’s hips hitched backward, inviting him in.

“So gorgeous,” Draco whispered as he watched the pad of his thumb disappear into Harry. Harry’s eyes were shut tight and his white teeth were bared, surrounded by red lips. Draco desperately wanted to know what Harry was so afraid to say out loud.

“Don’t hold back, Harry. Let it out,” he purred. He replaced his thumb with two fingers, sliding them in. He twisted them and curved them upwards to tease at Harry’s core.

“I need you so badly,” Harry was grinding himself against the wall of the room, his hands grappling at the plaster. “Need your cock, oh gods, never wanted anyone so much.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I've got you,” Draco murmured. He tucked his head into the back of Harry’s neck and kissed him there softly while his fingers continued to work him open.

“I can’t believe this is finally happening,” Harry groaned. “Please, I need your cock.”

Draco withdrew his fingers and watched with anticipation as Harry spread his legs further apart, canting his hips, until his waist was practically horizontal with the ground.

He stepped back for a moment, admiring the long lines of Harry’s back, the arch of his throat, his mouth hanging open, wet and panting. He brushed Harry’s lips with his other thumb, feeling the tiny intentions of his teeth, the red bubble of blood. Harry pulled his thumb into the heat of his mouth with his tongue, and sucked, staring at Draco with blown pupils.

If he were an artist, Draco could see himself spending hours drawing that moment, his thumb between Harry’s lips, the debauched look in his eyes. Draco had never felt more wanted, more needed than he had in that moment.

“Look at you,” Draco murmured. “Look at how stunning you are.”

Harry groaned around Draco's finger, licking the length of it inside of his hot mouth. Draco bit back a moan as he wrapped his hand around his own length and pulled, wiping the beads off the tip of his cock.

Draco lined himself up and pressed, driving his length into Harry like it was the one thing he was meant to do. He clung to his hips as he entered him, slow, steady, allowing Harry to adjust to the burn.

“Ngggh, oh, fuck,” Harry groaned, his hand wrapped around his own cock. Pulling at his length, Draco continued to press forward.

“Almost there, baby,” Draco pulled back and slid in again, until he was fully seated within Harry. “You okay?”

“Fill me up,” Harry shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, opening himself even further for Draco’s cock.

Draco wanted to, oh gods, he wanted to, but he also wanted his mouth on Harry, his fingers wrapped in Harry’s own. They were too far apart. Too terribly far apart.

“Get on the floor,” Draco said, regretfully pulling out of Harry in one slick slide. “Want you there.”

“Anywhere, please,” Harry answered, and Draco flung his medical robes to the ground for Harry to lay his chest on.

Draco pushed down on his shoulder, manoeuvring Harry onto his robes on the floor before entering him again. Draco draped himself over Harry until his mouth was on his earlobe, and his chest was on Harry’s back, and then he rolled his hips, slow and smooth, as he whispered things into Harry’s ear.

“You’re mine, Harry. All mine.”

“All yours, yes Draco, unnh yes.”

Draco kissed his shoulder, nibbled at his jaw, and wrapped one of his hands around Harry’s chest. He then pulled Harry closer - so close - as he threaded his fingers into Harry’s, entwining them together in a tight embrace.

Draco continued to grind into him, while Harry arched backward and their bodies melded together, and, Merlin, they were fucking but they were also making love, and Draco didn’t know if he had ever done that before. They were so close that every bit of him was touching every bit of Harry, and his cock wanted to fill him, to claim him.

 

“Please, Draco, so close,” Harry moaned, and Draco shuddered. He shifted to his knees, and pulled Harry with him so his back was against his chest once more. Draco wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock and tugged in time with his thrusts.

“Come for me, love,” Draco murmured into his ear, and that word sounded so unfamiliar yet so _right_ rolling off of his tongue. And with a moan, Harry was coming, his hole tightening around Draco as he bucked into his hand, covering his fingers with white ropes of pleasure.

“Draco, love, yes,” Harry grunted as he came, and Draco followed, his own orgasm overtaking him as he thrust wildly into Harry, filling him with his come.

They both stayed like that for a moment, catching their breath on the hospital room floor, until Draco carefully withdrew. He stood and searched for his wand, finding it haphazardly cast in the tangle of sheets on the bed.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Harry asked after Draco cast a couple of cleansing charms over his skin.

“Hopefully even in your fragile state, you know what a fuck feels like?” Draco pulled his robes off the floor with a disgusted scowl.

“I know _what_ it was, Malfoy, but...well...why?”

“Why did we fuck? Honestly, I have no idea. I don’t find you the least attractive.”

“Good one.”

“Excuse me?” Draco snapped his head in Harry’s direction after discarding his robes directly in the bin.

“You find me attractive.” Harry grinned.

“And why would you say that.”

“You told me, remember? That night at the pub, after you met Talia for the first time? You were proper drunk, I suppose.” Harry found his folded clothes and yanked up his trousers. “Said you’d wanted to know what my hair felt like since sixth year.”

“Wanting to know the texture of that rat's nest you call hair is hardly calling you attractive,” Draco growled. He felt his cheeks warm as he pulled on his own clothes.

“And then you said how fit I am, and how you thought I had a nice arse.”

“I did not.”

Harry scrunched his nose. “You did.”

Draco wrenched his shirt over his head. “I do not recall those words, and I would appreciate if you wouldn’t share with anyone what transpired here.”

“Hey,” Harry reached out and tried to grapple Draco’s fleeing form. “Don’t go, we should really talk—”

“Nothing to talk about, as nothing happened, remember, Potter? Now, do see the mediwixen down the hall, they’ll get you a salve to rub on that shiny scar of yours. Twice a day for the next week or so.” Draco turned and left the room, slamming the door on his way out.

That question continued to rattle through Draco for the rest of the day. _Why._ Why had he fucked Potter? He knew exactly why: it was something he had wanted to do for months, maybe years.

But on a random Tuesday, in the middle of his hospital shift, just because a naked Potter was laid out on his table, with a bloody new scar? It certainly wasn’t the first time that Harry had been in a thin robe on his exam table.

And yet, something _had_ happened. Something had completely taken over Draco to the point where he couldn’t stop. Even as he crawled into bed, pulling his satin sheets up to his chin, he couldn’t stop thinking about Harry below him, writhing as Draco fucked into him.

Draco calling him _love._ And Harry responding in kind.

The next morning, Draco awoke to a sharp rapping on his kitchen window. When he peeled back the curtains, his mother’s Great Horned was staring angrily back at him.

He opened the window and the owl swooped in, grabbed an entire sleeve of biscuits from the top of his counter, and flew away, hastily dropping a rolled letter from her talons before she cleared the window frame.

Draco could already tell something was wrong. His hands shook slightly when he unraveled the parchment.

_Draco,_

_Would you mind explaining this? I have always been supportive of your life choices, but I will admit I am hurt that I had to find out this way. Do give Harry my best, dear._

_~ Your Mother_

Attached was the front page of The Daily Prophet, with large letters scrolling across the top.

**HARRY POTTER AND DRACO MALFOY WED**

Draco dropped the bit of paper as if it were covered in slugs.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that when he opened them again, the paper would have magically changed to read something else.

Unfortunately, when he opened them again, the torn sheet still declared that he, Draco Malfoy, was somehow married. To Harry Potter.

He read the article quickly, and then read it again, making sure he didn’t miss a single detail of his supposed wedding day.

**HARRY POTTER AND DRACO MALFOY WED**

_Mr Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, and Mr Draco Malfoy, former Death-Eater and current Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries were wed yesterday in a private ceremony. Friends of the couple admit to the nuptials being sudden, but not overall surprising. Close friend of Mr Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, was slightly baffled she was not invited to the secret wedding, but wishes the couple immense success, stating ‘Draco’s been wanting to get into Potter’s trousers for years, ‘bout time he did something.’_

_Our very own Rita Skeeter was one of the few honoured guests at the ceremony. “Oh yes, Harry and I have been close friends for years, so of course I was invited. The ceremony was quite beautiful, and I’ve never seen happier or more handsome grooms.”_

_We at the Daily Prophet would like to be the first to wish Mr Harry Potter-Malfoy and Mr Draco Potter-Malfoy our best wishes and congratulations!_

It seemed that Rita Skeeter had attended a wedding between Draco and Harry that Draco himself hadn’t even attended. He sat heavy in his chair as he tried to process the mess of words he had just read.

“Draco?” a voice curled out from his Floo.

“Hermione?” he answered, relieved. If anyone could figure out what had happened, he knew it would be her. “Come on through, and hurry!”

“I suppose congratulations are in order?” she asked, lifting up her own copy of the paper.

“Just about to pop a bottle of champagne, and there’s leftover cake in the fridge.”

“Is any of this true?” Hermione folded her arms, and Draco recoiled, flashing back to the time she punched him in the face.

“If it is, I must have had way too much fun at the reception.”

Hermione pulled a quill and a pad of paper from her bag. “Harry had no idea, either. He just keeps babbling about, well, certain acts that might have possibly occurred while you were on shift yesterday?”

Draco winced. “Something might have happened, but that doesn’t mean we’re married! If fucking a bloke instantly invokes a marriage bond, my last name would have quite a few more hyphens.”

Hermione scribbled some notes and scratched her nose, leaving a streak of black ink down the side of her face. “Start at the beginning, if you don’t mind?”

Cracking his knuckles, Draco started at the beginning, from walking into Harry’s room, to applying the balm, to Harry wincing and pulling off the bed.

“And then we engaged in some activities I’d rather not delve into.”

“Can you remember what you said to each other?”

“During?”

“No, no. Please don’t tell me that. Before. What did you say before?”

“Something about how I thought we were friends, and he agreed.”

“He agreed? Do you know what his exact words were?”

Draco racked his brain through the previous day’s events, searching for clues, for anything that could help. He sucked in a breath when he realised.

“I do.”

“Great, tell me.”

“I do.” Draco repeated.

“You do,” Hermione waved a hand, encouraging Draco to continue, but then paused, her quill lifted mid-air. “I do,” she said, fully understanding. “You said ‘I do’ and I’m assuming at some point he said ‘I do’ as well.”

“But that— if that was enough, people would be married all the time! That’s such a common phrase!”

“Did something else happen, Draco? Think hard, something else must have happened.”

_I do. The scar. Then Harry jumped off the bed, and Draco heard a clink._

_A clink._

“Fuck.” He ran over to the Floo and threw some powder into the flames. “Potter, you git!”

“Yes, my betrothed.”

“Oh, fuck off. Get over here and show me your hand.”

“Did you already get me a ring?” Harry grinned as he walked through the Floo, and Draco wanted to punch him in the face.

“You already have a ring, you ponce. Your family crest.”

“Oh, yeah. I found it in a box of Sirius’s things at Grimmauld. It was my dad’s, you see? And when he died—”

“Time for your reminiscence later, Potter. They must have touched.”

“There was a lot of touching yesterday, if I remember correctly.”

“Hermione, a little help here?” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Harry, if your family crests touched each other, that could have activated a marriage bond.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, could we just, you know, clink them together again?”

Draco rubbed his temples. “We’ve already consummated it.”

“Oh.”

“Always so eloquent. At least I can look forward to long, enthralling discussions for the rest of our lives.”

Harry frowned. “So what do we do?”

 _“I_ need to see my mother, and _you two_ ,” he motioned from Harry to Hermione, “need to figure out a solution.” He threw another pinch of powder into the fire and Flooed to the Manor.

When he returned, he was nonplussed to see Harry and Hermione still sitting in his living room. They were surrounded by books and parchments, and Hermione had added to the collection of ink streaks covering her face.

“Any progress?” he asked Hermione hopefully.

“We found a couple of things,” Hermione answered, but her voice was grave.

“How was your mum?” Harry asked.

“I think she’s more upset she didn’t get to plan the wedding.” Draco couldn’t help but sound bitter. The verbal lashing he had just received had not been pleasant. He sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor to begin combing through some of Hermione’s notes. “So what are our options?”

Hermione sat up straighter. “Well, from my research, I’ve discovered the bond can either be terminated or severed.”

“Oh, good!” Harry chimed in, trying to lighten the mood.

“Not good. Do you even know what she’s saying?”

“Yes, Malfoy, she’s saying we can terminate it!”

“Harry,” Hermione said, her voice patient but strained. “Termination means—”

“One of us kicks it.” Draco rubbed his temples.

“Well, I’ve already died, does that count?”

“The Boy Who Lived Twice, if you could go one week without reminding us.”

“Well, what about the other thing?” Harry asked. “Severing?”

“The act of Severing,” Hermione read from her copious notes, “is to destroy the bond through magical force. And there are some slight ramifications.”

“Of course there are.” Draco had been trying to stave off a headache since he left the Manor, but he had a feeling there’d be no preventing it. He grabbed the sheet from Hermione’s hands.

“Potential drainage of magic, loss of limb, et cetera, et cetera, pretty standard— “

“Loss of limb?” Harry rubbed his shoulder.

“Not likely, but they have to list it just in case. Appetite, mood swings…” Draco’s voice trailed off and his eyes widened as he read the last symptom on the list.

He couldn’t swallow, could barely breathe as he passed the list to Harry, who scanned through the symptoms quickly.

“Well, looks like severing is the way to go!” Harry exclaimed, dropping the piece of paper onto the table. “I hope I still like treacle tart after.”

“Are you sure, Harry?” Hermione asked, her worried gaze jumping from Harry’s calm face to Draco’s scowl. “You understand the risks?”

“I'm not stupid, Hermione. Sure, I'd rather not lose an arm, but I’ve had worse. And Draco said it's ‘not likely’, so let's get this over with.”

“He says it’s fine.” Draco huffed, pulling his sweater down and smoothing the pleats in his trousers. “I assume you don’t need me to complete the incantation?” He waited for Hermione to acknowledge his statement with a quick nod.

“Great. Then I’ll be off. Don’t touch anything while I’m gone,” he mumbled, before grabbing a pinch of powder and escaping through the Floo.

 

\-----------------------

“What was that about?” Harry stared into the flickering flames.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Hermione shook her head.

“He said everything was fine! Honestly, you’re acting like this is all my fault.”

“Read the last line out loud, Harry.”

“Fine,” Harry shrugged. “All parties involved will no longer be able to partake nor engage in continued enterprises post bond severing.” Harry shrugged. “So we can’t start a business? Not like we were going to open a broom shop together.”

“I should have known,” Hermione _Accio-ed_ two tumblers from the kitchen and filled each with a finger of whisky. “Harry, do you like Draco?” she asked as she took a sip.

“Yeah,” Harry answered easily. It had been so long since Hogwarts, since they _hated_ each other. “He’s nice, and funny, and bloody attractive.”

“And you...enjoy what happened between you two?”

Harry drank a big gulp from his glass. “Hermione, are you asking me if I enjoyed the… consummation?”

“I’m asking if you liked being with Draco. As more than a friend.”

Harry wished he could say he needed to think about it, but that would imply that he had stopped thinking about the way Draco’s lips felt on his, and how his breath felt on his back. He could still feel the ache of having Draco inside of him, their fingers intertwined. As if he would ever forget how Draco called him _love_.

“Yeah,” Harry answered softly. He hoped he could blame the heat burning across his cheeks on the alcohol.

“Severing the bond means you can never be together,” Hermione said.

“Together?” The word felt heavy on his tongue. “Do you mean—”

“You won’t be able to have sex with Draco ever again.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“And he—” Harry pointed at the Floo, where the flames still flickered as if Draco hadn’t passed through them at all.

“Precisely.”

\------------

“What are you doing here, Potter?” Draco mumbled as he opened his door the next morning. Harry stood on his stoop, broom in hand and a grin on his face.

“Came to see if my husband wanted to join me for a date!” Harry said. “Thought we could go flying?”

Draco rolled his eyes but his chest swelled at that word. He had always imagined falling in love as a child, getting married, starting a family. Not like this, not on accident. Not when the other one wanted to sever the whole thing.

“Thought we were divorced already,” Draco sneered. “Don’t tell me Granger botched the spell?”

“I told her not to do it.”

“Of course you did.” Draco crossed his arms protectively over his chest. “Always the saviour, never could do anything for yourself.”

“I did this for myself!” Harry flung his arms up in the air. “You think I don’t know how to do my own healing spells? As if I really need you to Emendo my arm, or rub ointment into my scratches?” He was pouting, running his hands through his hair, and Draco cursed himself for thinking it was charming, watching Harry get frustrated.

“We have that cream at the camps, you know. But I like seeing you, and having you… touch me,” Harry continued, and Draco couldn’t help but grin at the redness growing in his cheeks, and the way his glance kept dropping to his hands.

“And you like it too, you know.”

“I have critical patients come in every day that need my help more than you.”

“Then why do you always take care of me?” Harry asked. “Any Healer’s assistant could do those spells, and you know it.”

“The hospital requires its best attendant to care for The Chosen—”

“That’s bullshit!” Harry was yelling now, and Draco was slightly worried about the commotion alerting his neighbors. “You care about me, you— you— you love me, Malfoy.”

Draco bit his lip, trying to avoid what he wanted to say. _Of course I do, you pillock._

“I do not.”

“Do too.”

“You sound like a child.”

“Better than a coward.”

Draco frowned. Here Harry was, declaring his love on his doorstep, and Draco couldn’t even concur. _Was_ he a coward? He didn’t think of himself as one, but he had never been the type to run towards the flames.

“We can’t stay married.”

“Why not?”

“Because we weren’t even dating!”

“I died before I even lived, Draco. Starting at the end isn’t new for me.”

“Again with the dying, we get it.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” Draco ran a hand through his hair. “That I find you intoxicating? That I’ve thought about you, and me, and us since sixth year? That I have the wards alert me every time you enter the hospital, so I can make sure I’m the Healer on duty?”

“Would be nice, yeah.”

“And then what? We just _stay_ married?”

“We could?” Harry shrugged.

“Have a big wedding.” Draco wished he could stop, but the words kept tumbling out of his mouth. “Buy a house in the countryside, raise two kids?”

“Three might be nice.”

“Grow old together? Honestly, do you think we’d even live that long before killing each other?”

“I think we could try.” Harry bit his lip. “I just want to try.”

“You and your Gryffindor optimism,” Draco sighed. He wanted to bite that lip too, and lick that jaw, and taste his throat, and his skin, and his come. Draco could feel the tingle of flames on his toes, igniting him from the inside as he stepped closer to Harry. “Bet you think we’ll live happily ever after.”

“I think we’ll fight, and then we’ll make up.” Harry waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, really?” Draco wrapped his arms tight around Harry’s waist. He couldn’t resist the pull, and he found himself unwilling to try.

“Mmm.” Harry nodded as Draco placed a soft kiss on Harry’s lips. “We’ll give it a try?”

“We’ll give it a try,” Draco agreed. “Now come inside. This is our honeymoon, after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Filled for Prompt #9, by CranBerries - They unknowing invoke a marriage ritual. Friends to lovers.


End file.
